


Snow happens…

by DoctorBilly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Exchangelock holiday gift exchange 2014, Johnlock if you look very closely, Snow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-30
Packaged: 2018-03-04 08:06:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3024149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorBilly/pseuds/DoctorBilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snow happens, and John and Sherlock get stuck at a ski resort town after solving a case…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snow happens…

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madnina](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madnina/gifts).



"Nope. Everything's down. The avalanche took out the power line. The only way down is on skis, and we'll have to wait till the morning. The light's not really good enough tonight."

John switches off his phone.

"Lestrade says thanks for catching the jewel thief, and reckons I'm in for some fun. What does he mean?"

Sherlock sniffs. The tip of his nose is very cold, and feels as if it is running.

"I'm sure I have no idea, John."

Sherlock slams his feet into the bindings and flips the clips.

"What are you doing, Sherlock?"

"What I am _not_ doing is inviting hypothermia by spending a night on top of an Alp, John."

John looks appraisingly at Sherlock. His ski-suit is state of the art, tight-fitting and sleek in midnight blue. John's own outfit is less attractive, but, he feels, more practical. Salopettes and a jacket. " _Easier to take a pee in, if nothing else_ ", he thinks.

"The light's failing, Sherlock."

"All the more reason to get going, quickly. Give me your hat."

"Why?"

"I lost mine earlier. I saw you pick up the one that child dropped on the way up. That means you have a spare. Give me the blue one."

"That means I'll have to wear the kid-sized hat…"

"Your head is smaller than mine. And you have less hair to tuck in."

John sighs and hands over his hat. Sherlock looks like a downhill racer in his blue suit. The knitted hat complements the outfit. He carefully leaves a few curly locks untucked. The slight dishevelment is a bit sexy, John thinks. Especially when compared to John's own outfit. Black salopettes, red padded jacket, and yes, a hat with a penguin on it.

"Don't even think of laughing."

"It's very practical, John."

Sherlock's lips quirk slightly.

"Easy to spot at a distance."

"Just shut up."

Sherlock pulls on his gloves, grasps his ski poles and pushes off. John follows him down, admiring the sway of Sherlock's rear end in the tight-fitting suit. For a while, he is mesmerised. And then he realises that Sherlock's behind is not swaying because he is a good skier, but because he is a spectacularly _bad_ skier, lurching from side to side in an effort to stay upright.

It works, for a while, but eventually, gravity wins and Sherlock goes down, flailing. He slides for a while, luckily not setting off another avalanche.

John comes to a controlled hockey stop, and helps Sherlock to his feet.

"Are you having fun yet, John?"

"Er…"

"I really don't know what it is that Lestrade finds so amusing in watching me ski, but it seems to be amusing you, too."

"It's your arse, Sherlock. It's got a life of its own on the downhill run. It's a bit… distracting."

"Oh, really, John. You're as puerile as Lestrade."

"Yeah. It's catching. Look, we need to get a move on before it's completely dark. Can you manage?"

"Of course."

Sherlock checks his bindings and pushes off again. John follows again, keeping a more wary eye on him this time. They make it almost to the bottom of the run before Sherlock goes down again. This time he isn't so lucky. John hears him swearing as he pulls to a halt.

"What hurts?"

"Ankle. Might be broken. I won't be able to ski on it. I doubt I can even walk on it."

"I'll have to tow you"

"Excuse me?"

"We'll have to lash our skis together to make a sort of sledge. You can sit on it and I'll tow you to the lodge."

"Perhaps I can manage after all…"

"Don't be ridiculous, Sherlock. I know it'll be a bit undignified, but if you try to put weight on it you could do more damage."

"Oh, very well. What will you use to lash the skis?"

"Belts."

"I'm not wearing a belt."

"Of course you're not. You're probably not wearing anything under that…"

John waves at Sherlock's ski suit.

"Give me your scarf. I'll use that."

"I need my scarf, John."

"I need to get you off this mountain, Sherlock. A little help, please…"

Eventually, they limp into their hotel in Samoëns, and John pronounces Sherlock's ankle sprained, not broken.

"We're in time for crèpes and bowls of cider. It's the speciality here."

"I really would prefer a cup of tea, John."

"I dare say, but the tea you'll get here isn't going to be like the tea you get in Baker Street."

"I expect that is true. My foot is cold, John."

Sherlock's ankle is swollen and too fat to put into his boot.

"Here. This will cover the bandage and keep it a bit warmer."

John stretches the penguin hat over Sherlock's foot. It makes a very good sock, and provides a very good photo opportunity.

"Childish, John."

"Yep. Lestrade was right though."


End file.
